Lent. Turn down for Lent.
This year for Lent, I gave up drinking. Yes, I really did. It’s been 28 days so far. Saying that sounds weird, like an AA meeting, but without the coffee and donuts.
Every year during lent, I try to give up one of my many vices. I have come to realize that giving up TV when you don’t own a TV does not count, and not swearing only lasts up until I stub my toe on a coffee table because that shit hurts. That’s why this year, I choose something more challenging.
I have been asked if it’s hard. Honest answer? Not at all.
Drunk me dances like a fool, flirts like no other, occasionally makes poor decisions and is kind of a bitch. But let’s be real, that sounds a lot like sober me too, so it really makes no difference. Just because I’m not drinking doesn’t mean I can’t go out and have a good time. In fact, when my friend Katie and I flew to Switzerland to party with GRiZ and I was stone cold sober, Katie confirmed that I was, “not a boner,” which is probably one of the best compliments I have ever gotten.
Giving up alcohol for lent has been a personally rewarding experience. My wallet and my waistline agree. There is so much to do abroad and so much to see, that I don’t want to skip a beat. Trust me, sightseeing hungover is a bad time. I missed out on a damn good British breakfast back in Liverpool because of it, and I’m still bitter about it.
Of course, there is a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel: Lent ends when I’ll be in Rome, at approximately wine o’clock.